Quill & Bookmark
by tellmesomethingnew
Summary: Hermione surprises Tom with a present he hadn't been expecting. Done for the Tomione Convention's Happy Birthday Challenge for Tom Riddle. Warning for a bit of OOC fluff.
1. The Presents

**A/N:** So this was a drabble (well, it was originally just a drabble before I caved in and made it a 2-part drabble...) written for the Tomione Convention's Happy Birthday challenge for Tom Riddle.

* * *

Tom sat before the large fireplace in the Great Hall, which was nearly empty. Elves were preparing for the oncoming dinner as Tom enjoyed the silence and the crackling of the fire as he read his book. A figure came and sat down beside him and he closed his book, huffing a sigh as he turned his head and gave Hermione a glare.

"I'm reading."

"I see that," Hermione murmured as her soft brown eyes fell to the book for a moment before she looked down at her lap. Encased in her shaking hands was something thin and rectangular wrapped in silver wrapping paper and adorned with a dark green ribbon.

"What's that," Tom grumbled, rolling his eyes as he went back to reading, or at least tried to.

"A gift."

"Charming."

"For you."

Tom looked over at Hermione again, who looked up at him, surprised. "In case it hasn't gone through that thick head of yours, Christmas was _weeks _ago, Miss Granger."

"I know," she murmured as she looked down at the present. Tom saw the mix of emotions running across her face: thoughtful, worried, conflicted.

"This isn't a Christmas gift. It's your birthday present."

Tom closed his book. "Who told you it was my birthday?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip, as if she wanted to answer, but knew she wouldn't.

"Who," Tom demanded. The edge in his voice made her nearly jump from her skin.

She cringed. "Abraxas."

Tom let out a throaty, angry noise, almost like a growl. He put his book down beside him as Hermione put the present down at the space between them on the bench. Slowly, she slid it over to him.

"You don't have to open it. But...I just thought of you, and maybe you'd like it." She shrugged, wary as she eyed Tom's hesitant hand that descended down on the present.

He pulled it onto his lap and pulled apart the paper and the bow gracefully, careful not to make a mess. Beneath the silver wrapping paper was a white cardboard box taped together. He ripped through the tape easily with his fingers and pulled the cover off to see a mountain of neatly folded black tissue paper to find two peculiar objects hidden within.

A black quill with fresh cream feathers that looked to have cost a fortune, and what looked to be a handmade bookmark that consisted of thick parchment with a sloppily scrawled drawing of Hogwarts at a distance on it and an added small hole at the top with a Slytherin-themed ribbon tied through.

He blinked down at the two gifts, unsure of how to react as Hermione sat there, staring at him intently and shaking with nerves eating away at her worries.

When Tom picked up the quill, carefully, she sucked in a breath. "You've been needing a new quill. Yours is close to breaking. And I know how much you like to write. The shop keeper assured me this would last longer than the normal quills that we use."

Tom twirled the quill between his index finger and thumb, looking at the quill with an odd twinkle in his eyes that Hermione couldn't understand properly. Did he like it?

Soon, he put it back in the box and pulled out the bookmark.

"A-and I thought you could use a bookmark. One you could use in the summertime that'd remind you of home."

Tom looked over at her when she said "home".

She searched for disgust in his face, but only found confusion. She could only imagine how he felt. When was the last time he received a proper birthday gift? Or a proper gift at all? The hat she had bought him for Christmas was only a silly thing, really, and she's only seen him wear it to Hogsmeade on the days it snowed. But maybe he'd use these objects more.

She reached out to touch his cheek, but caught herself before their skin could make any contact.

"Happy Birthday, Tom," she murmured as she pulled her hand back quickly and got up, escaping the Great Hall with the burning feeling of Tom's eyes watching her.


	2. The Thank You

It was the brightest it had been in months and Hermione felt simply pleased about it. She sat by the shore of the lake, clad in a simple winter coat to keep her warm as she read.

To her surprise, a figure came and sat down beside her on a log she had found and made into a bench. With a chilling cold breeze among the air warmed by the sun, things were comfortable. Snow sat in patches among the earth around the area, but it still looked beautiful.

She looked over at Tom and quirked as small of a smile as she could create, her stomach fluttering with excited butterflies.

"Tom," she greeted softly.

"Miss Granger."

From his messenger bag, he pulled forth a book. He opened it to read beside her, revealing her bookmark being used to hold his place.

She eyed the bookmark and smiled.

"I never got to tell you," Tom started after what felt like forever of them reading in silence.

She turned her head, giving him a questioning glance as he leaned forward and pressed his elbows to his knees. Light reflected off the water and fell onto his hair, making it look like a dark brown instead of a simple raven's black. He looked almost peaceful and harmless.

"Tell me what?" She asked him, marking her book with her thumb. She had her bookmark sitting beside her on the log. It was a similar liking to the one she had made Tom, but mainly just of a Gryffindor-like style.

"Thank you," he said slowly, almost full of doubt as he looked out at the water for a moment.

"For?" She tried not to act surprised by hearing such words come from him, Tom Riddle.

"For the birthday gifts. No one had ever really...put heart into them. The others," he started as he shook his head, and she knew he meant Abraxas and his other _friends_, "have just gotten me random books and clothes... Simple stuff."

"Are the two gifts not simple as well?" She asked, confused.

He shook his head. "No. Because you put thought and time into them."

She couldn't comprehend this. It had only been a day since she had given him his gifts. And in between then and now, they had just exchanged unsure glances. But here Tom was, thanking her just a day after his birthday.

Her thoughts were pulled from her when she felt the touch of cold, soft skin brushing against her cheek. Her eyes met with Tom's and her breath caught in her through. The act was so gentle, so silent, that she could hardly believe it was Voldemort doing it.

Since when was the young Dark Lord thoughtful of such a thing, even _thankful_. It confused her and scared her all at once. Especially since she couldn't understand if his current mood, actions, and words, were all in earnest.

"You're welcome," she said shakily.


End file.
